


Coal and Firewood

by ThatGirlWhoAlmost



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:47:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28363398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatGirlWhoAlmost/pseuds/ThatGirlWhoAlmost
Summary: “So, you’re staying here? For how long?” I ask Johanna.“Of course I am!” she says, “I’ll stay for as long as you let me stay.”Months after the end of the war, Katniss receives the unexpected visit of Johanna Mason. Together, they will try do help each other heal while they deal with their own feelings.JonissKatniss povPost-mockingjay
Relationships: Katniss Everdeen/Johanna Mason
Comments: 12
Kudos: 36





	1. Chapter One

We are now reaching the end of may, which means that I turned 18 just a few weeks ago. It also means that summer is gradually making its way to district 12. The trees and the flowers have come back to life, giving a little color to the mostly gray land – or so I’ve been told this morning when Greasy Sae showed up to check on me. Other than just trying to shove food down my throat, she always makes sure to talk to me, to keep me entertained and informed about what’s going on outside of my house, which I refuse to leave. Most of the time, I don’t even respond, but that doesn’t seem to bother her, since she loves to talk.

Everyday is the same: she comes in and greets me cheerfully; proceeds to tell me about the weather, the reconstruction of the district, and gives me updates on the government’s decisions for our country; moving on to the kitchen, she checks if I ate the dinner that was left for me the day before – complements me if I did, lectures me if I didn’t; she makes me eat breakfast, seats near me at the couch and talks a little more; she gave up making me lunch a while ago, because I always rejected it, so she takes this time to tidy up the house a little bit; she makes dinner and can only hope I will eat it as she leaves.

I haven’t seen Haymitch since the day we got back to 12 – he’s probably too drunk to keep his promise to babysit me, right now. Peeta shows up sometimes, always bringing with him fresh bread and our memory book. We work on it quietly – I write, he illustrates. He tries to make me engage in conversation, but I just don’t have the energy for that. It seems that I don’t have the energy for anything lately. I appreciate his efforts and the company anyway, because it allows me to escape my own head for a while.

From my spot on the couch, I can hear Greasy Sae finishing dinner at the kitchen. I’m so used to the sounds of her working that, closing my eyes, I can practically see her in my mind – filling a pot with water, turning on the stove, cutting what I assume to be vegetables and putting everything together. After some time, the smell that fills up the house confirms that shes making soup. But what I hear next is completely unexpected and disconnected from our daily dynamic.

The loud knock on the door startles me, making my eyes fly open. It’s such a foreign sound to me and it doesn’t make any sense. Peeta never knocks; Greasy doesn’t knock, and she’s also already at my house; no one else visits me. I start to feel anxious, locking my eyes at the door and wondering who might be standing outside. My brain works to create thousands of the worst possible scenarios, making my heart race. I think about getting up and answering, but Greasy beats me to it and I hear her animated voice as she seems to recognize the visitor. I’m about to ask who it is when she calls out to me. “Katniss! Get up, girl, your friend is here to see you!”

Friend? This sounds foreign to me too. What friend? Greasy stands aside, holding the door open to allow the visitor in, and my heart skips a beat as I take in the sight in front of me. Without an invitation, Johanna Mason, with a bag over one shoulder, starts to walk towards me, her short, messy hair getting down to her ears now. She’s still a little pale and has some dark circles under her big brown eyes but seems to have put on some weight. Overall, Johanna looks a lot better and healthier than she did when I last saw her. She drops the bag in the middle of the living room and looks around curiously, finally fixating her eyes on me. Unceremoniously, she lets herself fall into an armchair right across from me. “Are you not going to say hello to me, brainless?”

I’m speechless. Luckily for me, Greasy cuts into the conversation saying: “Well, dinner’s ready. I’m gonna go and let you girls talk. See you tomorrow, Katniss!” I watch her go and see the door close behind her.

“Dinner?” Johanna asks in her usual high-pitched voice “Good, I’m starving!” She gets up and heads to the kitchen, stopping and turning around when she realizes that I’m not following her. “What? First you don’t speak and now you won’t eat either? You know that I’m not going to feed you, right, Everdeen? So, you better get up before I eat everything by myself.”

I don’t move. “What are you doing here?” is what I let out.

“Wow” she looks incredulous and I can’t tell if it’s genuine or not. “What a nice way to greet a guest.” she says ironically.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that, I–” My voice fades and I feel exhausted. Not wanting to have to explain myself, I say: “Never mind.”

“I know what you meant, brainless”, she smirks. “There’s no special reason for me to be here, really. Been wandering around the country ever since the end of the war and decided to spend a few days with my favorite roommate.” She pauses, measuring me with her eyes. “Unfortunately, Haymitch didn’t let me stay at his place. But you were the second-best option, so here I am!” she says in a fake excited tone. Noticing that I’m unresponsive, she rolls her eyes at me and adds: “That was a joke, his house stinks.”

“So, you’re staying here? For how long?” I ask Johanna, ignoring everything else that she had said.

“Of course I am! What did you think the bag was for?” she says, pointing at it still lying on the floor. “I’ll stay for as long as you let me stay. It’s not like I have anything better to do, anyway.”

“Ok.” I look at her for a while, not knowing exactly what to say next. “You can take your stuff to the guest room. It’s up the stairs, first door to the righ–”

“Guest room?” she cuts me, “You want me to stay at the guest room so I can wake up in the middle of the night, hearing you scream because of a nightmare and have to go after you, to make you shut the fuck up? No way, where’s your room?”

I don’t know if it’s the way she talks about my nightmares like they’re a big problem that _she_ has to deal with or the mocking expression on her face that gives me fuel to answer, looking deep into her eyes: “Well, before I let you sleep in my bed, I need you to tell me something.” She looks at me, an eyebrow raised. “How often have you been showering?”

The question hangs in the air for a while. She seems surprised, impressed even. When I start thinking that I might have crossed a line, Johanna laughs and says: “Ay, look who’s back. I was starting to worry about you, Everdeen. And I probably shower as often as you do. Have you looked at yourself lately? You look awful.”

She’s not wrong. I don’t even remember the last time I showered; my nails are long and dirty; one of the first things I did, months ago when I got to district 12, was cutting my hair short, having the parts that got burned as a guide, so it’s actually not much longer than hers and completely uneven; I lost a lot of weight; I also don’t remember for how long i’ve been wearing the clothes i’m in right now. “Ok, but to be fair, I don’t sleep in my bed” is the smartest comeback I’m able to give her.

She looks puzzled. “You’re not telling me that you _sleep_ in this couch, are you?” I don’t answer. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Alright, this changes today. From now on, you and me both sleep in your bed. It’s not like we’ve never done this before, right?”

“Shower first” I try.

“Maybe” she answers, but I notice that her eyes become a little unfocused at the thought.

“I can help you. It’s not like we’ve never done this before, right?” I quote what she just told me.

“Are you going to tell me where’s your room or not?” she insists.

“Up the stairs, second door to the left.” I think it’s better to let her change the subject for now.

She gets up, picks up her bag from the floor where she had dropped it and heads upstairs. Watching the small figure disappear, my mind wanders back to district 13. I remember how she used to wake me up when the nightmares wouldn’t leave me alone, until we agreed it was just easier if she slept in my bed. All the times I tried to help her bath, the small progress she made every time and how happy we both were when she was finally able to wash the little hair that was growing in her head. I also remember the way we danced together at Finnick and Annie’s wedding. But thinking about Finnick hurts, so I should really stop.

“Hello, earth to Katniss” Johanna’s voice makes me jump. I did not remember that she could walk without making any noise and was expecting to hear her footsteps coming down the stairs. I hadn’t noticed that she was already standing midway into the living room. “I’m still hungry. C’mon, lets go” she says with an annoyed look on her face.

I decide that it’s wiser not to fight her, so, gathering all the energy that I have left, I get up and follow her silently into the kitchen. I watch as she searches the cabinet for two bowls, fills them up with the soup, that was still warm enough, and gets two spoons from the closest drawer. Considering how familiar she seems to be with everything, I’m guessing the houses of the Victor’s Village in district 7 must be organized the same way as they are in 12. We walk to the table, sitting face to face and she puts my bowl in front of me. I actually do feel a little hungry, so we both start to eat in silence, until a meow coming from under the table gets our attention.

“No way!” Johanna says “Buttercup?” she picks him up from the floor and settles him on her lap where he lays and purrs softly. Turns out Johanna really likes cats and the two of them developed some sort of friendship during our time in 13. They seemed to enjoy each other’s company very much. “How’d you even get here, boy?” she asks, taking her eyes off of him and placing them on me, expecting an answer.

“He walked.” I don’t like where this conversation is going. “Finish eating, your soup is getting cold.”

“Huh? What do you mean? Wait–” she looks at me disbelievingly “He walked from 13?”

“Yeah.” I focus on my food, avoiding her eye contact.

“But _how_?” she insists, shock all over her face.

“He was looking for _her_ , ok?” my voice cracks slightly and I hit the table with my fist, still holding the spoon. “He walked all the way from fucking 13, got hurt and almost died, hoping he was going to find her here!” I know I’m losing control of how loud I’m speaking but there’s nothing I can do about it. “Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted to hear?” I know somewhere in my mind that I’m not being fair to Johanna. She was just asking a question and there was no way she could have known this would affect me so much, but I can’t bring myself to care right now.

She looks at me with a worried expression and that’s when I notice the tears running down my face. Without saying a word, she takes Buttercup off her lap, gets up, comes to my side and opens her arms for me to hug her, giving me the chance to deny it. I hesitate for only a second, welcoming her embrace and burying my face on her shoulder, while I sob uncontrollably. She runs a hand up and down my back, until I calm down enough for my body to stop shaking.

“It does get easier, you know? I promise.” Johanna whispers, placing a hand on my chin and making me look up “Speaking from experience.”

“How?” I speak tentatively, hoping that she’s going to understand me “how do you deal with that?”

“Well,” she sighs “first you’ve got to let it all out. You want to cry? Do it. You’re mad and want to go around destroying everything you see in front of you? You probably shouldn’t, but that’s what I did, so I won’t be the one to stop you,” we both smile a little at this “This feeling doesn’t really go away, but you learn how to live with it.”

“Thanks” I say weakly and stop to analyze her while I dry my tears. This girl who had her entire family taken away from her and still kept fighting. I don’t know if I have this in me. She must have read my mind, because the next thing she says is:

“You just cannot spend the rest of your life sitting on a couch, Katniss.” I roll my eyes at her, but she keeps talking. “I mean it! And believe me, I know how tempting it feels. But next thing we know, you’re a vegetable and I’m not going to change your diapers or whatever.”

I nod. Thinking about my mother and the way she used to sit in a chair and do nothing after my dad died, the reality of the life I’ve been living suddenly hits me. I don’t judge her so much anymore, I can understand her a lot better now that I find myself in the same position she used to be. But I also don’t want to do this anymore.

She starts to clean up the kitchen and I’m not in the mood to me polite, so I watch as she puts the rest of the soup in the fridge, takes both of our bowls and spoons and organizes them neatly into the sink. She doesn’t wash anything. I worry, realizing that all the progress she had made with me in 13 was lost, and now she can’t even get her hands wet anymore. I decide that I need to be well so I can help Johanna. With this last thought in mind, I tell her: “Ok, you’re right. I’ll try.”

After all the emotional charge I experienced today, I’m exhausted, so I suggest that we go to my room to try and get some sleep. She agrees and we move upstairs. I feel my stomach sink when I see the room right across from mine, the beautiful blue patterns that she loved so much, decorating the white door that remains always closed. “Don’t you ever get in there” I warn Johanna, pointing at the door and she just nods. I don’t have to explain this to her any further, she gets it.

When the door to my room is open I walk straight to the left side of the bed, climbing on top of it and letting myself lay comfortably under the covers. Johanna looks at me from the doorway “So,” she says unsure “no shower first?”

“No” I answer tiredly and the tension leaving her body is visible. “We’ll deal with that tomorrow.” Closing the door behind her, she proceeds to make her way to the bed and gets under the covers on the right side. It feels weird after all this time and we don’t dare to face, let alone, touch each other. As I feel myself drifting off, I say: “Johanna?”

“Huh?” she lets me know that she’s listening.

“It’s nice to have you here” I let out.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you missed me” I can feel the smile on her voice. “Now go to sleep, brainless.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey :) If anyone is actually reading this, I hope you enjoyed! Comment and let me know what you liked and what you think that could be better, it's really important to me! (but please keep in mind that english is not my first language, this is my first ever fic and i'm also very sensitive lol)


	2. Chapter Two

Waking up from a nightmare is something I’m familiar with. They’ve been present in my life ever since my father’s death and became gradually worse after everything that I experienced these last years. It always takes me a while to recover, the seconds when I’m trapped between a woke and sleeping state are usually the worst, the confusion of not knowing what’s real that follows until I can place myself in the environment around me, fighting through my tears, is excruciating. Except this time when I wake up screaming, I can’t identify where I am.

Struggling to see in the darkness, I realize that I’m not in my living room and this unsettles me. I’m about to get up and try to escape whatever place this is, when I feel two hands on my shoulders, holding me down. I use all of my strength to push them away from me, desperation taking over my senses, but I’m not strong enough, so I dig my nails into the stranger’s forearms, trying to get loose. The person talks to me, but I can’t make out the words, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. My eyes grow accustomed to the little light in the room and Johanna’s face comes slowly into focus.

“It’s ok,” I recognize her voice “You’re ok. Listen, you’re Katniss Everdeen, you’re eighteen years old, you’re in your room in district 12,” she reassures me, her hands now on each of my arms “I’m Johanna Mason, I got to your house yesterday.” I calm down slightly, noticing that she is right, this _is_ my room. Still shaking, I recall the events of the previous evening and, suddenly, the scene if front of me starts to make sense. I nod to let her know I understand and let go of the grip I had on her forearms. As I try to sit up, she lets go of me too and sits by my side.

I notice the small marks that I left on her skin. “I’m sorry” I say, rubbing my eyes in an attempt to see more clearly.

“Been worse.” she replies. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” I shiver, flashes of the horrors dancing behind my eyelids.

“Ok.” She thinks for a while. “Do you want me to tell you where I was before I came to 12?”

So she remembers. One thing Johanna learned about me is that, after I have a nightmare, I’m usually far too anxious to fall asleep. Back in 13, she used to distract me, telling me her most interesting stories, until my mind slowed down enough. I nod, because I could really use the distraction and I’m also genuinely curious to know where she spent these last months. She lies back down and I follow right after.

“I was in district 4” she tells me. “You must have got the letter Annie sent you with the picture of Leo.” I smile at this, thinking about the little boy that has his mother’s auburn hair and his father’s sea green eyes. Kaleo, the letter said, was born this spring, a very health and curious baby. I had no idea Johanna had been there. “I went to 4 after the war ended when I found out she was pregnant.”

“And how was it?” I ask.

“Terrible!” this caught me off guard, so I turn to my side to look at her. “No, seriously,” she continues, her eyes glued to the ceiling “there’s so much water _everywhere._ ” Oh, that’s right. “It rains so fucking much and it’s always so fucking hot, I don’t know how people stand to live there. It was like being back at the Quell, except this time the person I was looking after was _actually_ pregnant,” she turns to the side to face me “and also mentally unstable.”

“Aren’t we all mentally unstable?”

“You know what I mean” she sighs. “Look, Annie is great, really. I just don’t have the patience it takes to deal with her and, let me add, the pregnancy hormones didn’t exactly make it any easier.”

“Then why did you stay there, if you hated it so much?”

“I had to,” she lowers her voice a little bit “I promised him I would take care of her, in case anything happened. And Annie really needed help, so I made an effort. But I’m pretty sure I have enough good karma to last for the rest of my life.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad” I provoke her.

“You don’t know the half of it. Hey!” Johanna exclaims, her voice back to its normal pitch “You wanna know two things that are really weird?” I nod. “First: _baby bumps_ ” she says it like it’s the name of a deadly disease and I laugh for the first time in what feels like ages. “Stop laughing, it _moved_!” she continues agitatedly “She had a whole human being inside of her, how’s that supposed to be normal? And it was huge, I thought the baby was going to come out looking like a middle schooler! Well, he didn’t, and that’s actually the second weird thing: _newborns_. I mean, they can’t even hold their own heads, you have to do it for them.”

I try to control my laughter to ask her: “You had never seen a newborn before?”

“Of course I had seen one, but Annie wanted me to hold _it_ ”

“And did you?” I don’t call her out for saying the baby is an “it”.

“I had no choice.” I raise an eyebrow at her. “Alright, he’s kinda cute” she smiles. “Luckily for me, your mother was there to help when she was in labour, because that would have been too mu–” 

“My mother was there?” I interrupt her.

“Yeah, she was. She decided to stay with us for the first days, to instruct Annie, and ended up moving in. They live together now, that’s the only reason why I could be here, or did you think a just left her by herself?”

I think about it for a few seconds. It’s hard not to feel some jealousy, considering my own mother chose to live in another district and is now, when I most need her, taking care of someone else instead. But I do understand her reasons, a lot better than I would like to. Living in 12 with the ghosts of our loved ones is maddening and, if I could, I would probably leave too. Hoping my emotions didn’t show on my face, I answer “I didn’t know. Haven’t talked to my mother in a while.”

As I finish this sentence, I yawn, starting to feel drowsy again. “Finally!” Johanna says “Can we go back to sleep now? I’m exhausted.”

***

When I wake up again, the room is already filled up with sunlight. I am lying by myself and thinking I might have imagined the whole thing when I spot her bag on the floor. Getting up, I notice that she’s left it open and I’m able to see its contents: some sets of clean clothes, a worn pair of boots and, wait... is that an axe? How the hell she travelled between districts with that is beyond me. I smile involuntarily when I see the pine bundle I gave her tangled between the clothes. I’m happy to know that she’s kept it. I go downstairs, following the animated conversation coming from the kitchen. Standing at the doorway, I see Johanna leaning back against the counter, a steaming mug in her hands. She’s listening to Greasy Sae’s famous story about the one time a guy at the Hob told her that he was not going to pay for the food he had just eaten because, in his words, ‘goat shit must taste better than this’.

“Then I told him: ‘Acker,’ that was his name” she says, looking briefly at Johanna “I told him ‘Acker, goat shit is what I’m gonna make you eat if you don’t give me my money right now.’ And do you know what he did?”

“He laughed” I say, and both of them look at me.

“Oh, good morning, girl” Greasy greets me with a smile. Johanna just nods, taking a sip from her coffee. “Just in time for breakfast. Here, sit down.”

The three of us sit together and start to eat. “So, he laughed and then what?” was all it took from Johanna to make Sae resume her unstoppable chatter. I don’t pay much attention, since I’ve heard this story more than once, but she seems excited to talk to someone who’s responsive for a change. I usually feel bad about it, even if she says she doesn’t mind, because I know how much she loved to interact with her clients and friends at the Hob. But today I just take the opportunity to eat silently, without feeling any guilt.

The day goes about the same as always, except Johanna doesn’t let me stay still for too long. She follows Greasy around the house, paying close attention to her daily activities, and drags me along with them. I don’t really understand what she’s doing until dinner is finished and she states, casually: “You know, Grease, I’m going to stay here for a while. Why don’t you take this week off?” The old lady looks conflicted, not so sure if she can trust us by ourselves. “Don’t worry, I can handle her. I’ll shove the food down her throat myself if I have to.” I rise an eyebrow at her, remembering yesterday when she said she was not going to feed me.

“Alright” The cook says, finally. “But I’ll have the boy check in on you to let me know if you need anything.”

“Deal” Johanna says. When Greasy Sae is gone, she jokes “She really takes the babysitting job seriously, huh? She’ll even have bread boy spying on you and all.”

“So, what is this?” I ask her “We babysit each other now?” she shows an offended expression on her face “I mean, you feed me, I bathe you…we’re like a pair of toddlers”

“Well, you better not pee in bed or I’ll kill you”

***

We stand side by side in the bathroom, facing the half-empty bathtub. I can hear how fast Johanna’s breathing, fear already taking over her body. I try to recall the experiences we had at 13. Through trial and error, we learned the best way to manage the situation to make it the least stressful as possible for her: we can never submerge her all at once, starting with just feet and working the way to the rest of her body throughout the days is the best option; holding her down reminds her of the torturers – I got a huge scratch on my face for that one, so I just let her hold my hands and look me in the eyes in an attempt to keep her steady; she will tremble and possibly cry, but now I know how to recognize her reactions well enough so we don’t push past her limits.

I watch as she starts to take off her shoes, socks, and pants, choosing to keep the rest of her clothes on. It’s hard to believe this is the girl who stripped down in an elevator in front of complete strangers, but after being tortured, she is not as confident as she used to be. This is just another thing that the Capitol took way from her. I stand beside the bathtub and offer her my hands, that she takes into her shaky ones. “Are you ready?” I ask her, but she doesn’t answer me right away. “You don’t have to do this today–”

“Ready” her voice cracks. We sit together at the edge of the bathtub.

“Take your time” I tell her and get only a nod in response. “Don’t look down, look at me.”

Johanna locks her eyes on mine and proceeds to lift one of her legs very carefully, passing it over the edge, and lowers it until her toes touch the surface of the water. She freezes, panic written all over her face and I feel the pressure on my hands getting stronger as she squeezes them. I can barely recognize the person in front of me. She looks so small, tears filling up her brown eyes. It makes me angry; how could they possibly break her like this? First President Snow, ordering people to torture her to try and get information about the rebels – but she didn’t give in. Then Coin with her exam, having people flood the entire Block, causing her to relapse and end up back at the hospital.

“Hey, you’re doing well” I reassure her. “It’s alright, you’re alright.” She soldiers on, her foot finally touching the bottom, water reaching the middle of her calf. “Let’s try the other one?” I ask and she complies, having now both her feet submerged.

It didn’t seem to be going so bad, but she starts to shake violently, hyperventilating, tears streaming down her face. As I fight to remain calm, I remember one last thing that I know might help and decide to give it a try. Since I haven’t done this in a while, I need to search my brain and settle for an old song I used to hear my dad singing sometimes:

_You're headed for heaven,_  
_The sweet old hereafter,_  
_And I've got one foot in the door._  
_But before I can fly up,_  
_I've loose ends to tie up,_  
_Right here in The old therebefore._

It works, the tears stop slowly as she closes her eyes, listening intently, focusing only on my voice. The distraction gives me a chance to let go of her hands and move on to washing her feet, like I’ve done so many times before.

_I'll be along_  
_When I've finished my song,_  
_When I've shut down the band,_  
_When I've played out my hand,_  
_When I've paid all my debts,_  
_When I have no regrets,_

I help Johanna out of the bathtub, taking the towel and kneeling in front of her, drying the water, noticing that her breath has slowed down. I finish the song, her eyes fixated on me:

_Right here in_  
_The old therebefore,_  
_When nothing_  
_Is left anymore._

I made the right decision telling her I would try to get better. She may be too proud to admit that she needs my help, but seeing her right now, I realize how fragile they’ve made her. She needs to get better too. And we’ll do this together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, please review <3


	3. Chapter Three

As the days went by, Johanna and I developed a routine. I have slept somewhat better since we’ve been living together, she always helps me overcome the fear that paralyses me every time I have a nightmare, and this has given me a little more energy to complete some chores. Everyday we wake up, inexplicably, tangled in each other’s arms. We don’t talk about it. We eat breakfast and she leaves, going to the little market that has been organized by some of the citizens that returned to 12 trying to start their lives over. She always makes sure to pass by Haymitch’s house to talk to him and see if he needs anything.

Greasy Sae didn’t lie, Peeta comes in everyday to bring bread and check on me. It’s become a habit for the three of us to eat lunch together, now that I can actually manage to eat lunch, so he stays with me until Johanna comes back and we start to cook. On the meantime, we tidy up the house and, on a few occasions, work on the book. One day, when Johanna came home, Peeta asked her if there was anyone she would like to add to the book and she looked at him with such fury I was glad her axe wasn’t anywhere near her. So I never ask her about the people she’s lost – her family, friends and even the tributes she trained – because I know the topic is too sensitive for her.

After we eat, he goes back to his house, leaving me with the person whose only task seems to be getting on my nerves for the rest of the day. As much as I hate to admit it, having to deal with her is still better than the numbness I’ve experienced these last few months. Isn’t this what makes us human? _Feeling_. I spent a lot of time trying not to feel. Now, I’m overwhelmed by all the emotions fighting for my attention – all the sorrow, the pain, the anger. I cry more; I allow myself to think about those who are gone; I resent my mother, which makes me feel guilty; and I can’t remember the last time I had felt alive the way I do now. _It’s her,_ my mind keeps telling me, _her being here changes everything_.

This is probably the one thing I don’t want to think about. It makes me revisit the confusion I experienced during our time in 13. I don’t understand what is it about Johanna that draws my attention to her ever since we first met. I thought this feeling was gone, but the longer she stays here, the stronger it seems to be growing, and the fact that I cannot name it makes me even more nervous.

_“Well, I think that you’re in love with her” I remember my sister’s voice whispering hurriedly from her spot right next to me, on my bunk bed._

_“No, I’m not!”, I had told her. “Why would you say that?”_

_“I don’t know, maybe it’s the way you look at her.” She thought for a few seconds. “And I think she might be in love with you too.”_

No. She is– _was_ very good at reading people, but this time she had been terribly wrong. Whatever weird friendship Johanna and I have developed is too complicated and trying to figure it out makes me anxious, so I decided to just pretend it doesn’t bother me and go about my days, ignoring the fluttering sensation at the pit of my stomach every time she comes near me.

During the last couple of days, Johanna has been trying to convince me to go hunting. She’s tried everything: from asking nicely, saying it would be good for me to go outside, to dragging me forcefully towards the door, what led us to wrestle for about 10 minutes in the living room. Her current strategy consists in complaining, all day long, as loud as she can, about the quality of our food. She even told Peeta, when we were preparing lunch, that she would _literally kill_ for some fresh meat and she wondered _where the fuck she could possibly get it_ , making sure to glare at me while saying each word.

So today, after she bathed, – she can already sit inside the bathtub, water reaching just above her bellybutton – she said: “I would have probably made a lot more progress by now if I was eating well, you know?” and I finally had enough.

“Alright!” I say loudly “We can go hunting tomorrow! Happy? Now can you _please_ shut up?” She opened a triumphant smile and it was settled: we’re going hunting tomorrow. She can have this effect on me. She knows very well how to get to me, always has, and the fire that runs through my veins every time I get mad at her is what has kept me moving recently.

***

I hesitate, standing at the porch, the front door closed behind my back, as I hold my father’s old bow in my hand. I’m technically not allowed to have a weapon, – or walk around the district carrying one – but I’ve kept it at my house ever since the end of the war and I don’t think anyone’s going to try to stop me. Johanna has already gone down the steps and looks up at me impatiently, axe in hand, resting it over her shoulder. I inhale deeply, feeling the warmth of the summer air on my skin. When I take a tentative step forward, I hear a familiar voice that almost makes me go back inside:

“Now, would you look at that! Decided to finally let the fans catch a glimpse of you, _sweetheart_?”

Haymitch is at his porch, sitting on a chair, and I assume he was waiting for Johanna’s daily visit. He doesn’t look much different, same drunk expression as always, except a lot more tired. I’m prepared to give him a comeback, when we hear Peeta’s door open and we all turn to see him walking outside.

“Hey, you’re out!” he says, fixating his eyes on me.

“Yeah,” Johanna answers for me “we’re going hunting.”

“Oh,” he lets out, genuine surprise on his face, and at this moment I notice the book he was holding in his hands “this is really great!” he says, smiling at us, but seeming a little disconcerted.

“We’ll be back by lunch time” I tell him, still eyeing the book “Sorry for not letting you know before,” I add, nodding at Johanna’s direction “we decide to go last minute.”

“No, it’s ok! See the two of you at lunch, then.” With that, he turns around and gets back inside his house.

“So,” Haymitch continues like nothing had happened “are you sure you can still hunt? If I recall correctly, last time you shot one of these arrows, your aim was kinda off.”

“That’s not funny, Haymitch” I say coldly.

“Sounds pretty funny to me, sweetheart.”

“Why do you care if she can shoot or not?” Johanna’s snarkiest tone plays on her voice “It’s not like your body even remembers food, anyways. Unless she can shoot a bottle of white liquor and bring it to you, I don’t see why it would matter.” She smirks at him.

“What is this, you fight her battles for her now?” He laughs “I see you and your _roommate_ over there are getting pretty close, huh?” He has that annoying look on his face, the one that says he knows something other people don’t. I have no clue of what it could be and I hate it so much when he does that.

Giving him a deadly look, Johanna says: “Shut the fuck up, Haymitch, I just happen to enjoy making fun of you and couldn’t miss the opportunity.” She turns to me “C’mon, brainless! It’s getting late.”

As we walk towards the woods, I’m glad to see that – differently from the last time I left my house – a big part of the destruction caused by the bombing has already been cleaned. Greasy Sae told me, not long ago, that the people had dug a sort of collective grave in the meadow, to bury the bodies of the victims and give them a proper resting place. Reconstruction has barely started, but I can see the improvised homes, the little market, and the citizens working on construction sites.

I was hoping to get to get to our destination unnoticed, but that’s obviously impossible. Everyone stops what they are doing to look at us, the two victors, with our weapons, marching side by side. They are probably used to seeing Johanna, since she comes here almost everyday, so I feel all of their eyes focused on me. Shyly, some of them nod, wave and smile; a little kid with big gray eyes looks mesmerized, mouth hanging open. I attempt to smile back at them, but getting this much attention makes me anxious, so I walk as fast as I can.

When we finally get to the edge of the woods, I allow myself to stop and examine it for a while. It looks the same, except there is no longer a fence keeping us in. There’s so much life here during summertime, and I realize how I’ve missed the infinity of colors, smells, and sounds that comes from what has always been my favorite place on earth. It’s good to be back. However, as we start to move silently through the trees, an arrow ready in my bow to shoot any possible prey, my breathing becomes heavy quickly and I feel extremely tired. I should have expected this, considering that I spent the last months lying on a couch. I make an effort because I don’t want Johanna to notice, but after some time I get dizzy and am forced to stop, leaning against a tree, trying to catch my breath.

“Is this the shape of a victor, Everdeen?” She says mockingly, but I can’t even answer her. “Shit, are you ok? Sit down before you pass out, I don’t want to have to carry you all the way back.” I do as she says and when my eyes regain their focus, I tell her:

“I don’t think I can hunt today.”

“No shit!” Johanna exclaims “Here, drink this” she adds, handing me a bottle of water. She sits by my side while I drink, looking away like she’s thinking about something and, after some time in silence, finally lets out:

“So, you and bread boy,” I turn my head to the side and find her staring at me “how are things going between the two of you?”

I’m taken by surprise. I would have never expected Johanna to ask me about Peeta, considering how much she hated the whole star-crossed lovers thing. I inspect her face, trying to figure out whether or not she is being serious. “Well, we’re just friends.” I answer and she raises an eyebrow at me “That's it.”

“And does _he_ know that? Cause it doesn’t look like he does.”

“What do you mean?” I really don’t want to have this conversation with her.

“Don’t play dumb with me, you know what I mean. Or did you not see his face today when we left.” I avoid her eye contact. “He’s probably still at his house right now, just waiting for you to come back, so he can spend time with you.”

“Just because he wants to spend time at my house, it doesn’t me he’s in love with me, Johanna!”

She snorts at this “C’mon, not even you can be _this_ clueless.”

“And what do you want me to do?” I sigh. “Peeta has suffered enough already because of me, I don’t want to hurt him even more and make him have a flashback.” The truth is that he’s a lot better now, but, once in a while, something triggers a flashback in him. At least he doesn’t try to kill me anymore, but it’s still not fun to watch. “And I’m sure he’s going to realize I don’t feel the same way, eventually.”

“So, your plan is to just keep him guessing forever? Wow, that's _very_ merciful of you, Miss Mockingjay!” she states, ironically. I frown, so she adds, rolling her eyes: “Listen, I’m saying this as his old cell neighbour: if you don’t want anything to do with him, let him know, so he can move on with his life. Seriously, bread boy is trying to start over holding onto something that doesn’t exist. It’s hardly fair to him, you know?”

I digest everything she said to me and I _know_ she’s right. It is not like this has never crossed my mind before, I _do_ think about it; I just don’t feel ready to handle it yet. We end up going back home with our hands empty. While we followed the path to get us out of the woods, I promised I was going to deal with my problems – not being able to hunt and Peeta’s situation – in the future. As we make it to the Victor’s Village, Johanna puts her face near mine, locking eyes with me, and says: “One thing is for sure” I get that weird feeling in my stomach again, getting momentarily distracted by her closeness. “Future Katniss must hate you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, hope y'all enjoy the new chapter! :)


	4. Chapter Four

Things have been a little weird lately. I can’t take the conversation I had with Johanna off my mind, but I still don’t know how am I supposed to talk to Peeta. I don’t even know what I would say to him. Besides, there’s another thing I have to deal with right now. After being tried and forgiven for my crimes, it was decided that one of the conditions for me to live in 12 would be talking to Dr. Aurelius, for an hour, once a week. I avoided it for as long as I could, but now that the word has spread that Johanna and I live together – she has to talk to her head doctor too – it was impossible to ignore the phone constantly ringing.

We decided that during the time one of us is on the phone with the doctor, the other one leaves the house so we can have more privacy. It doesn’t really matter to me, I still talk as little as I can, just enough for him to think that I’m actually trying. It’s different for her. I know that for two reasons: first because, more than once, I have come home to find her sniffing, attempting to hide her bloodshot eyes. We never talk about it; the second reason took me some time to notice. It started out as something small, but it became kind of a habit after a while. After her sessions, Johanna has a tendency of staying unusually quiet, speaking only when it’s extremely necessary. She used to spend the rest of the day glancing at me, like there was something on her mind that she wanted to tell me but didn’t know how.

Until, one night, she did speak. As the both of us faced our terrors, wanting desperately to fall back asleep, she started her usual chatter that was meant to distract us from our own minds. Except, this time, it wasn’t a funny story about Annie and Kaleo or something stupid that she witnessed during her time as a mentor in the Capitol – she told me about living in district 7. It was all very vague and confusing, but it still made me happy to think that she’s beginning to trust me enough to open up about her past.

So, day after day, I pick up pieces of information: something she used to play with the kids at school; a quick tale about a group of drunk lumberjacks who lost their axes; places she used to go everyday; and names she occasionally lets slip and regrets right after. Names of people I’ve never heard of and are probably long gone. I wonder who they were, her parents, friends, siblings? Lovers, maybe? She doesn’t tell me and I don’t dare to ask.

After a while, I decided to confide in her too. Dr. Aurelius encourages it, he says that it’s good for me to have a friend I can talk to – even though he always adds that _he_ should be the friend I talk to. Johanna and I keep going to the woods every morning, I feel my body becoming stronger again and I can manage to actually hunt now. But being there always ends up bringing me back memories and, eventually, I talk. About my childhood, my father, and everything he’s ever taught me. She listens attentively and doesn’t ask me questions either. It’s like there is this unsaid rule between the two of us: whatever is shared in low, muffled voices, in the darkness of the night or the absolute silence of the woods, is never to be brought up later. It works for us.

So, this afternoon, as I sit on a chair, in Peeta’s house, watching him paint and waiting for Johanna’s session to be over, I cant help but wonder what type of story she is going to tell me today. The painting is confusing, the colours don’t seem right and the lines are slightly blurry. This is normal now since he transfers the confusion in his mind to his artwork. We are surrounded by it, all around the room, misshapen figures watch me and it’s difficult to tell what he tried to portray in most of them, but someone in particular is present in many: me, in different scenarios and situations, some real, others not. It unsettles me to a point where I can’t hold it back anymore:

“Hey,” I call him “I really need to ask you something.” Oh no, what am I doing?

“What is it?” he says, smiling. I don’t have to do this, do I?

“Uh…” I hesitate. I focus my attention on a painting of me wearing a beautiful dress designed by Cinna. The eyes look almost too real, like they’re looking into my soul, judging me, waiting for my next move. No. This has to stop. “Peeta, do you–” I sigh “do you still want us to be a, uh… couple?”

He seems taken aback by my question. His whole body stiffens, eyes looking clouded while he considers, choosing what to answer me. I’m starting to regret this, why did I listen to Johanna, of all people? I’m worried he might be having a flashback when he stares right at me and speaks:

“I mean, we’ve all been through a lot. I know you have a lot on your mind and you need time to heal first, Katniss, I don’t want to rush anything. But you’re getting better! So, maybe? No pressure, though, take your time” the hopeful expression on his face makes me feel incredibly guilty, but I can’t lie to him anymore. “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be he–”

“No.” I interrupt him, keeping my voice low and calm “I’m sorry, I can’t do this. I never wanted any of this, you know that.” He freezes for a few seconds, then shuts his eyes and closes his hands into fists “It’s not your fault,” I reassure him, not knowing if he’s even listening “It’s just not what I want for my life, we can’t really choose this kind of thing.”

Peeta just inhales and exhales for a moment, controlling his breath. Finally, he asks: “You love me. Real or not real?”

“Real” I tell him “Just not in the same way you love me. Peeta, you know I would literally die for you. But I love you like a friend. Like family.”

He sits, eyes still closed shut. “I get it” he sighs “It was never me after all, right? It was always him.”

“Who, Gale? No! I don’t love him like that either. I guess I just never wanted to be in a relationship at all.” He opens his eyes slowly, staring at my face “Look, I don’t want to lose one of the few people I still have because of this, ok?”

“You won’t. I understand” he says, not bothering to hide the sadness on his features “Can you just… leave me alone for a while?”

I glance at the clock hanging on the wall. Good, Johanna’s call with the head doctor is probably over by now so I can go back home “Yeah, sure.” I stand up and leave, not looking back.

I can’t wait to tell Johanna about this. I run back to my house, open the door and, noticing that she’s in the living room, I blurt out, breathlessly: “Hey, guess what? I just talked to Peeta and–” my voice dies when I realize she’s not paying attention. She’s sitting on the couch, legs pulled close to her chest, chin resting on her knees, staring into the wall in front of her, tears still visible on her cheeks. She doesn’t seem to acknowledge my presence, which worries me. Careful, as not to scare her, I walk towards her spot and kneel in front of her. “Hey, you ok?” She jumps slightly, her eyes gaining back their focus. She nods, not convincingly at all, but I think it’s better to just let her recover for now. “Ok. I’ll be upstairs, call me if you need anything.”

***

Standing in the bathroom, I comb my hair and analyze it the mirror. It has grown considerably and, with all the trimming I’ve been doing, the parts that had been burned are almost imperceptible now, blending in with the rest of the locks. If I cut it in a bob today, it would be finally even and I could just let it grow back. I miss being able to braid it. I take the scissors and start the process, watching little chunks of black hair falling into the sink. It used to be more difficult, but I’ve become pretty good at it. When I’m done and begin to clean the sink, my instincts tell me someone is observing me. I turn my head to the door and see a pair of brown eyes fixated on me.

“Can you cut mine?” her voice sounds raspy, so she clears her throat “I think its long enough for bangs now. It keeps getting on my eyes, it’s fucking annoying.”

“Ok. Sit there,” I point at the edge of the bathtub “so I can see what I’m doing.” Johanna does as I say and I follow her. One of her most recent victories was being able to wash her hair and now, combing it, I notice how messy it is: uneven, sticking out in many directions, but she’s right – it is long enough for bangs. I get the scissors.

“Be careful with this thing,” she warns me “if you cut me, I’ll kill you.”

“Alright,” I laugh “Try to stay still for five minutes, then.”

I’m really nervous, but I don’t understand exactly why. I’ve done this before, I used to trim my sister’s hair, it shouldn’t be a big deal. As I focus on my work, I get that fluttery sensation at my stomach again, my breath catches and my heart is pounding so hard I’m worried she might hear it, being close as she is. It’s similar to what I might feel while hunting – or being hunt. The expectation, the anxiety, these are all feelings I’m familiar with, but they don’t make any sense in this situation considering I am _not_ in danger.

I ignore it as I move on to the last section of hair: her bangs. I bend over so I’m level and brush the locks down, then I start to chop them, the strands falling on her lap, revealing her eyes. We stare at each other, our faces so close I feel her breath mixing with mine. I can count every freckle on her nose and cheeks, see the little faded scar near her cupid’s bow, white teeth showing through her parted lips. I look back up quickly, getting lost in deep brown orbs. It’s like there’s an invisible force pulling me towards her and I can’t help it. Wait! Are we going to…?

“All done!” I exclaim, pulling away from her. By the heat I feel crawling up my face, I’m pretty sure I’m blushing a lot right now. I hope she hasn’t noticed. “Ok, get out of here, I need to clean this mess.” She gets up, looking flustered, and I swear I could see a light blush covering her cheeks too. When she gets out, I’m left alone with my thoughts, trying to understand what just happened and, as much as I want to deny it, it’s actually really obvious: Johanna Mason and I almost kissed.

***

My mind is racing so much I don’t even attempt to sleep. I keep replaying today’s events in my head – my conversation with Peeta and the _thing_ with Johanna. The fact that she’s lying right next to me doesn’t help at all. I can tell she’s not asleep either, but we both stay still, not wanting to disturb one another. Eventually, she sits up, takes a deep breath, and says: “Wanna hear a story?”

“Yeah” I reply, simply.

“You won’t like this one.” She lets out a bitter laugh before continuing “7 has two main areas: the North and the South. The South is where all the important things were. They had the Justice Building, the Victor’s Village, and the big train station. So that was where they turned wood into furniture, paper, decorations, all that type of stuff, and sent it straight to the Capitol. The North is where people cut down the trees they used in the South. That’s where I– _we_ used to live. Me and my family, I mean.”

I don’t know how to react to this. She has never talked about this subject so openly and this unsettles me. I don’t move a muscle of my body, waiting silently for her to go on.

“It was my mother and my father, my sister Josie, she was the oldest, my brothers Jonathan and Jason, they were twins, and me, the youngest. Yeah, all of our names started with J, fucking tacky, I know. Anyway, after I won the games, I wanted to move to the Victor’s Village, but my family still had to work – I mean, they couldn’t afford to lose five healthy workers, right? Problem was, cutting trees is all the knew how to do. There wasn’t any job for them on the South. So I decided to stay and just improve our old house, I had enough money for that.” I can see her face become disturbed even in the darkness of the room. “Everything was perfect until the Victory Tour. Snow wanted me to _work_ for him – and by _work_ I mean he wanted me to be a whore for the rich people at the Capitol. Ha” Her laughter sounds even more bitter this time “I denied, but he asked a few more times. So I did what I thought was the right thing to do at the time: I told him to go fuck himself.”

She doesn’t look very sane as she speaks, her voice a little higher than usual, eyes distant, fixated on a spot on the mattress. I sit up next to her, worried.

“So one day I left for a walk,” she says, and I don’t think she noticed my movement at all “And, when I came back, a crowd had formed in front of my house. There was a lot of smoke, people were running around carrying buckets of water. Fire. I tried to get in but no one let me. It was too late, they said. Very tragic accident. They were all inside. You know what the strangest part is?” her voice cracks slightly and I know she’s holding back tears. “They worked on different schedules. What a coincidence they were all home at the same time, right?” The tears start to roll down her face. “We couldn’t save anyone. Or anything in the house, really. All destroyed. There’s not even a picture of them left for me to look at.” she suppresses a sob and I hear her whisper “All my fault.”

I want to tell her that’s not true but I know better than that. This guilt she feels, it’s too familiar. I’m not the best at comforting people, so I just put a hand carefully on her back. She hesitates but ends up coming closer to me and hiding her face on my neck. I lie back down, bringing her with me and placing her head on my chest. She lets it all out, her body shaking with every sob and I’ve never seen her so vulnerable before. It’s disconcerting, but now I know why it is so hard for her to open up to people. She doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. I pull her closer, running a hand up and down her back as she calms down gradually. Humming softly, I lull her to sleep, scared for her, because of all the nightmares that are sure to torment her tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, thanks for all the comments! Sorry for taking so long to update, I've been a little busy lately :( Anyway, hope you all enjoy the new chapter!


	5. Chapter Five

I’m taken aback as I enter Haymitch’s house. It’s only been a week since I visited him to ask for a favor and it seems like he managed to make it smell worse than it did before. Normally, I would avoid coming here at any cost, but I really needed him – or his address – this time. I spot him, sitting on a chair. In his hands, he’s holding a box wrapped in paper, the Capitol’s symbol stamped on it.

“So,” he says, as I come close to him “last week you didn’t want to explain this to me, but now, are you gonna tell me what the hell is this as why did you need it delivered to _my_ house?”

“That’s none of your damn business, Haymitch.” I try to get the box from him, but he dodges, pressing the box close to his chest “I don’t have time for this right now, give me that!”

“No, sweetheart, that’s not how it works” he laughs, and the smell of white liquor fills the room “You will tell me what this is or I’m gonna have to open it myself.”

I sigh. How can one person be this annoying? “It’s a gift for Johanna. For her birthday.” Even if she’s not particularly happy about it, we decided not to let her ignore the fact that she will be 22 tomorrow, in the last day of July. The four of us are even going to have a dinner at my place to celebrate, Peeta said he will bring cake. “But it’s a surprise. I had it delivered here so she wouldn’t see it. Now, give me that, I have to take it home before she comes back from the market.”

“You got her a gift? So, you’re best friends now? Braid each other’s hair?” he says, in a mocking tone “What is it that you got her that has to be such a secret?”

The truth is, I’m not entirely sure if I should have got her this or not and I don’t want to hear Haymitch’s opinion. I recall the events that happened last week, how I felt uneasy as the minutes went by in an unbearably slow pace. Sitting on a chair, I tried to concentrate, but my mind was far from the conversation I was having with Dr. Aurelius. I needed the session to end as quickly as possible, so that I’d have enough time to call one more person, before Johanna came back home. I looked at the letter lying on the table right in front of me. At the end of the sheet, I read the words _“Call me if you ever need anything. Beetee.”_ followed by a telephone number, and considered once more if I should really do this.

After Johanna told me about her past, one thing kept playing over and over inside my head. She had said that they couldn’t save anything from their house, not even pictures she could look at. But since she’s a Hunger Games victor, I wondered if, somewhere in the Capitol, they could have footage of her being welcomed back home after she won, or maybe of the party they had in district 7 at the end of her Victory Tour. Anything that gives her a chance to see her loved ones’ faces. And that’s the reason why I needed Beetee. Being someone who worked for years at the Capitol, developing technology for them, if anyone would have this type of information, it would be him.

So when the session was over, I dialed the number and waited anxiously for him to pick up.

_“Hello?”_

“Beetee?”

_“It’s me. Who is it?”_

“Hey, Beetee, how you doing? It’s Katniss.”

_“Katniss? Good to hear you voice again, after so long! I’m alright, thank you for asking, and you? Do you need help with anything?”_

I felt a little guilty for never calling him before, but I didn’t have much time so I went straight to the point: “I’m ok. But I do need your help with something.”

_“Do tell, I’ll see what I can do for you.”_

“Thank you. Do you know if, by any chance, the Capitol still keeps the pictures of the events they used to show on TV, before the war? Like, parties, official events and stuff.”

_“They do. None of the archives were destroyed, President Paylor chose to keep everything, so that the history of our country is documented and not forgotten.”_

“And what would I have to do if I wanted to get some of these pictures?”

_“Well, I don’t think that’s possible. These are not available for the public, they’re very important historical documents, only people in the highest positions have access to them.”_

I thought about this for a few seconds. The last thing I asked from Beetee was another telephone number, which he promptly provided me and I wrote in a piece of paper. After saying goodbye to him, I dialed the number and, once again, waited for an answer.

_“Hello? Who is it?”_ the familiar Capitol accent hits me.

“Hey, Plutarch. It’s me, Katniss.”

_“Katniss! To what do I owe the honor of this call?”_ He sounded like he was about to exploded from excitement.

“I need a little favor from you.”

_“Well, of course! Anything for the Mockingjay!” he said._

Coming back to reality, I notice Haymitch still watching me with a suspicious look. “I already told you: It’s none of your business” I tell him “It’s not for you, anyway, why do you care?” I reach for the box again and, this time, he’s not fast enough. I flash him a smile and turn to leave, running back to my own house. As soon as I close the door of my room behind me, I star to unwrap the box, to analyze its content.

To my surprise, I find not only the printed photos I had asked for, but a black-covered album. I hesitate, afraid to open it for a while and, when I finally do, I’m overwhelmed by the sight. In most of the pictures, a younger looking Johanna smiles, surrounded by people who are very similar to her. Plutarch added to the album the photographs that were taken for their official registers, the ones that the Capitol officers kept in their files. I can see the details of their faces, brown eyes, freckles, messy brown hair, and try to distinguish every feature she inherited from each of her parents. She got the beauty from her mother; her sister looked just like her, except for her pair of forest green eyes; she has her father’s sharp jaw; her brothers have that same air of troublemakers in their smiles.

Suddenly I feel a stinging pain in my chest. I feel sorry for this people that I’m never going to meet. I question myself again if this was a good idea, because sometimes I can’t stand to look at the images of the people that I lost. Sometimes forgetting their faces seems like it would be a lot easier. But there are also times when catching sight of my sisters smile brings me comfort. This is what I want Johanna to have: the choice. I hide the album, and can only hope this is not going to make her suffer.

***

We all sit together at the table. Johanna, who claims to _hate_ birthdays and spent the entire day threatening to murder us, eats happily and sips from the glass filled with wine, from the bottle Haymitch gave her as a gift. He is also eating, which I don’t remember seeing him doing in ages, drinking, which he does a lot, and even appears to have showered. They talk loudly, telling stories from the times they were together at the Capitol, laughing at all the bizarre events they had witnessed.

Things between Peeta and I are still weird, we don’t see each other as often as we used to, but he meant what he said: I didn’t lose his friendship. We still work at the book together, he eats lunch with me and Johanna sometimes, but it’s visible that he feels a little awkward. So, he eats quietly, commenting, only once in a while, something funny that makes the other two laugh even harder.

I observe, mesmerized by how familiar it all feels. Still not the biggest fan of how alcohol makes me light-headed – and specially the hangover that comes on the next morning, I agreed to drink just enough for us to make a toast. Feeling the acidic taste of the drink in my mouth, I look around and realize that, right this moment, I could swear that it has always been like this, just the four of us.

Was there really a time when Haymitch wasn’t by my side, giving me advice I didn’t ask for and annoying the hell out of me? A time when Peeta had never talked to me and we were just strangers who watched each other from a distance? It’s hard to believe that, once upon a time, I didn’t have Johanna with me, filling the house with her strident voice and her snarky laughter, leaving her smell on my sheets, supporting me in the hardest times.

I lock my eyes on her, my stomach doing backflips as I watch her. She smiles freely, her lips are lightly dyed purple, the constant tension on her shoulders seems to have left her body if only for a while. Has she always been this beautiful? Yes, she has. From the time she was reaped, everyone always commented on her beauty. I remember the moment we first met and instinctively look away from her, embarrassed by the memory of her stripping down in the Training Center’s elevator. Suddenly I want Haymitch and Peeta to leave. I want to be alone with her so I can give her my gift.

Luckily for me, we all decide that it’s time to sing happy birthday and eat the cake. It doesn’t take long for them to go away after that. Peeta excuses himself, saying that he is tired. He hugs Johanna tightly and gives her all his best wishes. Haymitch follows right after, pulling her with him to a corner and talking in a low voice so I can’t hear him. I have no idea of what he’s saying, but she smiles warmly at him as nods. When he walks away to his house, she closes the door behind him and turns to me.

“So,” I say, “I thought you said you hated to celebrate your birthday.”

“I do! I’m just a very good actress.” she exclaims, but her eyes tell something different. “I couldn’t wait for it to be over.”

“Oh, ok” I laugh, but I’m starting to feel nervous again. “Can you stand one last thing, maybe? I have a gift for you.”

“It depends. Is this gift gonna be worth my time?” she questions.

“I hope so.” I whisper, if for her or for myself I can’t really tell. “Sit there and wait, I’m going upstairs to get it.” She does as I say and sits on floor, back pressed against the couch, legs crossed.

I come back down hiding the album behind my back, thinking that it's better if I explain the gift before I give it to her. I want her to have the chance of denying it, because I don’t know how this is going to make her feel and the last thing I want to do is dig up her old scars.

“So, what is it?” she asks me with genuine curiosity.

“Ok,” I begin “I don't want you to be mad at me, so I'm going to explain it first. Remember when you told me about your family?” She looks away from me.

“Yeah” she says in a low voice. “What about it?”

“You told me you didn't have any pictures left of them, so I wanted to see if there was any chance of giving you that. I made a few calls and I actually got you some photographs.” I let it sink in, before I continue “I wasn't sure if you would want it, maybe looking at them would be too painful, but I wanted you to at least have this option. So here it is” I say, showing her the album “Most of them are from the time you won the Games, but I also got their register pictures.” She stares at me disbelievingly. Her silence makes me anxious, so I add “I can get rid of it if you don't want it.”

“Let me see it” is all she is able to let out. I walk my way into the living room and sit beside Johanna on the floor. She takes the album from my hands and opens it, hesitantly. She gasps, her sight focused on her family members. Page after page, she traces a finger over their faces carefully, failing to hold back her tears, but smiling weakly from time to time. When she is over, she closes the album and puts it down slowly.

She turns to face me, so many mixed emotions dancing on her eyes I find it difficult to identify them. “Are you mad at m–”

“Shut up” she wipes her tears with the back of her hand. “Thank you.” She moves closer to me, our faces mere centimeters from touching. The intensity of her gaze draws me in and I don’t think I can fight it this time. She looks down at my lips, then back up, and all I have time to do is shut my eyes before she closes the distance between us.

I’m petrified at first, all I can register is the feeling of her soft lips against mine. I only react when she tries to pull back, leaning forward and putting my hand instinctively on the back of her neck. She responds instantly, deepening the kiss and placing her hands on the sides of my face. I’ve never felt like this before. I don’t want to compare but it’s impossible not to, this is completely different from any of the times I’ve ever been kissed. The sensation I had at the beach, during the Quell, is nothing compared to the heat I feel spreading through my veins right now.

I’m trapped between her lips, her tongue, and her hands, except I don’t want to scape. This shouldn’t surprise me, really. This is who we are after all, isn’t it? Coal, wood, all it took was a spark and there we have it: fire. Unstoppable, consuming, burning our skin and our lungs. I welcome the feeling, not wanting it to stop. How long has it been since I felt something this good? I don’t remember, but I want to make this last for as long as I can.

When we finally break apart, both gasping, I risk a quick glance at Johanna. Her lips are parted, her face has a red glow to it and her eyes are dark. I’m sure my expression must be a mirror of hers. She smirks and says: “Was this part of the gift?” her voice a little raspy.

I just want to kiss her again. Instead, I clear my throat and answer: “It’s not your birthday anymore” pointing at the clock that marks now 00:15. “It’s getting late. Maybe we should go to sleep.”

The way up to the room is not easy, my legs feel like they’re made of jelly. As the rush of heat starts to fade, I slowly come back to my senses. What have I just done? This wasn’t supposed to feel this good, right? As we lay side by side on the bed, at the back of my head, my sister’s voice rings like a siren. _“Well, I think that you’re in love we her.”_ I do my best to ignore the woman right next to me, fighting the urge to hold her. Maybe Prim wasn’t so wrong after all. This is going to be a very long night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, you guys, sorry for keeping you waiting this long. Thing is, I'm taking college online classes, so I have a lot of work to do and don't have much time left to write. I know it sucks, but I got all the ideas organized in my head and I have a lot of fun writing, so I promise y’all I'm going to give this story an end, I just don't know exactly when. All I’m asking is for a little patience.  
> Anyway, hope you liked the new chapter and thanks for all the comments and kudos :)


	6. Chapter Six

It was just a kiss, nothing more than that. This is what I’m thinking as I walk through the woods, alone, an arrow ready to shoot any prey that I might find. The people in the district needed help with the wood that’s being used to rebuild their homes, since none of them have experience with that. And who better than a girl from 7, whose talent presented to the public during her Victory Tour was carving wood? Johanna had volunteered to help and, when I woke up today, she had already left. So I took this opportunity to hunt by myself and use the silence to listen to my own thoughts.

When I was making my way to the woods, I saw her briefly, instructing a man who was trying to cut a log in half. I didn’t stop to talk to her. Instead, I speeded up, hoping that no one noticed me. I don’t know what I expected to feel when I saw her, but I’m honestly surprised with myself. Rather than the shame and regret I was afraid would take over me, seeing Johanna brought a warm sensation to my chest, and I had to suppress a smile. I never thought that one day I would kiss a woman – and be ok with it. I didn’t even know it was possible for me to want that, but here I am.

After a long time trying to figure out _why_ it happened, I came to the conclusion that it was only and exclusively because we both _wanted_ to kiss each other. Simple as that. It was different with Peeta and Gale: whenever we kissed there had to be a reason why. I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders, the responsibility of being the love of someone’s life when I didn’t even understand my own feelings. I wasn’t allowed to experiment, because that meant I would be hurting one of them. _“She will choose the person she can’t survive without.”_ Choose. I _had_ to choose. And, for them, my every move was a potential sign of my decision.

After losing so many people I cared about and keep moving forward, it turns out I do not need anyone to survive and, luckily, Johanna knows that. This is the difference. She doesn’t strike me as the type of person who would kiss me and then pressure me to love her. We’re still getting to really know each other and our friendship was developing in a slow, comfortable pace. Yesterday, she kissed me because she felt like it and I kissed her back for the same reason. Is it going to happen again? Only time will tell, but knowing that there will be no demands from her makes me calm about the whole situation.

I hear a low noise coming from a bush not very far from where I’m standing. I watch silently and wait for the right time. I finally catch a glimpse of white fur and shoot. When I approach, I see my arrow caught between the eyes of a rabbit. I spent most of the time here stuck inside my head and this was my only successful shot, but it will be enough for today’s lunch since it’s only going to be me and Johanna, so I decide to skin it and go home. Getting to the Victor’s Village, I nod at Haymitch, who’s sitting on his porch and watches my every step carefully, like he is analyzing me as I walk to my own house. I don’t know what’s up with him and neither do I care.

“Hey, I’m home” I warn, in case Johanna is already here. And yes, she was, I find out as I step into the kitchen. I can swear I saw, briefly, a little surprise in her eyes, but she quickly masks it.

“Where the hell were you?” she asks, frowning.

“Hunting” I answer, getting the rabbit off my bag and placing it inside the sink “Why?”

She sighs and rolls her eyes “Just asking, brainless. Let’s prepare lunch, I’m starving.”

We work together at the kitchen, she doesn’t say a word and seems to be avoiding my gaze. Something is clearly bothering her but I don’t think she’s going to tell me. When everything is done, we sit side by side, the only sounds being of the cutlery hitting the plates, and she leaves as soon as she’s done eating. As I finish washing the dishes, I go to the living room and find her sitting comfortably on the couch. I sit beside her and curiosity finally gets the best of me.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened?” I ask her.

“Nothing” I raise an eyebrow at her “Alright, fine!” she sounds frustrated “Everyone knows that you’re a prude and all, so when you just disappeared today I thought you were offended or something? I wasn’t even expecting you to come back any time soon, honestly. But you’re here now, so whatever. Forget about it.”

I digest it for a while “Ok, hold up” I lock my eyes on hers “So you thought I had run away from home because you–” I look away from her to finish the sentence “kissed me?”

“I don’t know, Katniss! You’re awkward about this stuff, for all I knew you could be freaking out hidden somewhere.” I must look offended, but she continues “C’mon, can you really blame me?” I can’t. I _am_ awkward when it comes down to relationships and intimacy. Wasn’t it me who just spent the whole morning in the woods obsessing over this? “I just didn’t want things to be weird, ‘cause like, I live here.”

“Look, you don’t have to worry about that” I reassure her “Things won’t be weird, it was just a kiss, right?” I turn to look at her, trying to be cool about the subject, but automatically feeling my cheeks burn.

“Right” she runs her gaze up and down my face “So you don’t regret it?” she sounds suspicious.

“I don’t” I answer sincerely. Johanna searches my eyes, trying to read my emotions and I think she finds what she was looking for, because next thing I know she comes closer to me and says:

“Good. We should do it again sometime” she smiles and winks. I feel my face heating up even more, my breath catching at my chest, as I remember the first time she told me these exact same words “What about right now?” she continues, her eyes flying down to my lips and then back up to meet mine. I don’t know if she’s being serious or if she’s just messing with me to make me embarrassed. Maybe her kissing me last night was just an impulsive decision and she wouldn’t actually do it again. Is it possible that she’s fake flirting with me just to test if I’m really okay with the situation? She smiles “You’re thinking about this too much” That’s true, and that’s the opposite of what I want to do right now “If you don’t want to, just say it.” Johanna whispers.

I close my eyes and lean forward, touching my lips on hers. She responds, deepening the kiss, bringing one hand up to the back of my head as the other one rests on my hip, pressing slightly. Our first kiss was all emotion, messy, desperate, and consuming. This one is careful, deliberate, and almost painfully slow, but equally passionate. Our tongues dance together and she catches my bottom lip gently between her teeth.

I cross my arms around her and try to bring her closer, the feeling of her body increasing the warmth in my lower stomach. She breaks our mouths apart and I’m ready to complain when she starts to trail kisses along my jaw, moving down to my neck. She tugs lightly at my hair, tilting my head back so she can have better access. At first, I’m paralyzed by the sensation, but my fingers move at their own accord and tangle themselves at her locks, pulling her head down. I’m gasping for air when we’re startled by a loud noise. The telephone ringing in the next room makes us both jump, moving away from each other abruptly.

“I’ll get it” I say, breathlessly.

“Just ignore it” Johanna replies, coming back to her previous place and resuming her kisses on my neck.

“We can’t just–” it is difficult to talk like this, so I push her head away from me “We can’t just ignore it, it could be important.”

“It’s not important.” I can’t help but giggle at her upset expression. I push her away once again and get up, running to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” I say, sitting on a chair to catch my breath. When I finally get an answer, I can’t quite place the sweet, somewhat distant voice that greets me. It has been a long time since I last heard it. It’s only when I hear the unmistakable laughter of a baby in the background that I put all the pieces together and recognize the person I am talking to:

“Annie?” I notice Johanna standing at the doorway. She gestures at the phone, mouthing the words _‘How’s she? How’s the baby?’_ repeatedly. I get confused, not able to pay attention to both of them at the same time “Shut up” I brush Johanna off with my hand and she frowns, crossing her arms “No, not you, Annie, sorry. It’s Johanna.” She walks towards me and sits on my lap, putting her ear next to the phone in an attempt to eavesdrop. I sigh. “I’m gonna put you on speaker, Annie, so we can both talk to you. Alright, done.”

_“Johanna?”_

“Hey, Annie!” she exclaims “How’s Kaleo?”

 _“He’s doing great. Did you know he can hold his own head now? Wait, let me get him so he can talk to you.”_ We look at each other confused. A few seconds later, Annie comes back and, through the phone, we hear the baby’s cute noises that don’t mean absolutely anything interspersed with his mother’s eventual comments _“Yes,”_ she encourages him _“That’s right, say hi to aunt Katniss and aunt Jo.”_

I don’t think Johanna hated the time she spent at 4 that much, after all. She has a stupid expression on her face, grinning openly as she listens to Leo babbling. The usual hatred she has towards nicknames doesn’t seem to apply to “Aunt Jo”. Everything about the little boy brings a smile to her face, and I must look the exact same way.

After losing so much, these moments of pure joy are so rare for us that we just revel in the feeling. Kaleo is a reminder that not everything is gone and there’s still good in this world. We may have lost his father, but I’m sure Finnick would be happy to know that we succeeded in creating a better future for him. His son will grow to be free. He won’t have to worry about a government that oppresses and exploits its citizens, playing with their lives in order to maintain them under control. There are no Hunger Games anymore. I still fear for his life, the scars I carry making me suspicious, but right now, his giggles make me believe we’re living in a better time.

 _“And what about the two of you?”_ Annie’s voice pulls me out of my daydream _“You’re not fighting too much, are you?”_

“Oh, we’re getting along _very well_ ” Johanna answers. “You wouldn’t believe how much” she wiggles her eyebrows at me.

 _“Really?”_ Annie sounds surprised. _“I was worried, I remember you had lots of...”_ she searches for a word _“disagreements when we were in 13.”_ We really did. Most of the time, when we were not helping each other overcome our traumas and nightmares or training, we would fight about the smallest of things. It took me a while to get used to Johanna’s big personality and the way she was constantly teasing me. At first I thought ignoring her was the best way to make her stop, but it was when I started fighting back that she became more friendly. She told me she wanted to know what the Girl on Fire was really made of and I guess she liked what she saw.

“Yeah, everything is fine for now,” I join the conversation “but there’s always the possibility that I’m going to kick her out, so be ready to take her back.”

“Fuck you” she slaps my arm playfully “That’s not true, Annie, she wouldn’t have the guts.”

“Wanna bet? Try me” I provoke her, earning a chuckle from Annie.

_“The two of you sound like an old married couple, did you know that?”_

“What?!” I exclaim.

“No, we do not!" Johanna states like she’s offended, but the three of us laugh together right after.

We talk for a few more minutes, avoiding at all costs the difficult topics no one wants to bring up. The mood is light and we just enjoy the conversation, until Annie tells us that she has to go feed the baby. We all say goodbye, but instead of hanging up she says _“Uh, Katniss? Your mother is here and she wants to talk to you.”_ I’m taken aback and don’t know what to respond. Noticing that I’m tense, Johanna gets up from my lap and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her, just like we do when we have our appointments with the head doctors. I haven’t really talked to her about my mother, but she understands that I need privacy to deal with this.

“Ok,” I better get this over with, so I take the phone off speaker and wait.

“ _Hello?”_

“Mom?”

“ _Hi, Katniss.”_

We talk about trivial matters, both pretending like it hasn’t been months since we’ve talked to one another and just listening to the sound of our voices doesn’t bring back memories we would rather forget. It’s hard, but we make the effort. She tells me all about her new life in district 4, how happy she is to be working at a hospital, how she loves the weather there, how Annie’s such a lovely person and an amazing mother to Kaleo. Having a baby influenced her in a very positive way, mom said, because now she has someone who needs her.

I tell her about my life too, she’s very interested in knowing how Johanna and I are getting along. The only thing I choose to keep from her is the kissing. She doesn’t really need to know that and there are few things in this world I would hate more than telling my mother I kissed Johanna Mason. “So yeah, we fight sometimes but we’re helping each other” I finish.

 _“That’s good. I like her, I think she’s a good person”_ she stays silent for a few seconds. We she speaks again, her voice cracks slightly _“I’m glad she can be there for you when I can’t.”_ This phrase means a lot more than it actually says. She’s worried about me, she wishes she could be here to help me, but she can’t. The statement is filled with guilt but, in this moment, I can’t bring myself to be mad at her. All I hear is the sadness of a mother who has lost a child and feels like she’s failing, once again, the other one. I hate it, because I know deep in my heart that this is not her fault. I understand her, I would leave this place myself if I could.

“It’s ok. Really, I get it” I reassure her “It’s not your fault.”

The conversation ended shortly after this. None of us could stan to talk about Primrose and we were getting dangerously close to the subject. We said goodbye with a promise to call more often that we’re probably not going to keep. Johanna waited until night, when we were lying in bed, to ask me if I wanted to talk about it and I narrated our dialogue very superficially to her.

“She said she likes you.” I tell her.

“Oh, yeah?” she says playfully “Was this before or after she found out that I’m making out with you?”

“I didn’t tell her that!” I laugh.

“Keeping us on the low, huh?” she jokes “Didn’t know you were such a player, Everdeen. I’m impressed.”

“That’s the plan” I joke back “Keeping it between the two of us.”

“Uh...” she becomes suddenly serious “Sorry to ruin your little plan but I might have told Haymitch this morning.”

“You _what_?” I sit up to stare at her, outraged.

“Oops” she fake yawns, closing her eyes “Goodnight, Katniss.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry again for taking so long to update, hope you like the new chapter :)


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